THE HARDEST QUESTION I EVER HAD TO ASK Anyone that knows me, knows that I’m a 100%, straight-up momma’s boy. Growing up, I was never more than a few steps from her at any given time. I recall crawling in bed with her on Saturday mornings, once Big Mike had gotten up, and her and I would talk the things ranging from what trouble I got into that week, to what we were planning to do for that day. As I got older, I would ask questions about when she was little, her time at South Carolina State College, her work, and she would always have a story to tell. These bedside chats continued all the way up until a few days before her passing. I can remember staying in Rock Hill and getting a call from my dad to rush home. My mom had been very sick for a while and her condition had gotten worse within the past few hours. So, I rush home that afternoon and immediately make my way to her. I took a seat on the side of the bed, and I held her hand…she was unresponsive, but resting. I sat there, and just like in the past, I talked about everything from what I had been doing, to how her granddaughter school week had gone. The Hospice nurse came in and talked to us about what was to come. I remember zoning out most of what was said and laid down on the couch that was next to her bed. A few hours later, I woke up to her calling my name, asking when I had gotten home. Her voice was low, and she struggled to breathe between words. She called me over and gave me a list of things to do for her after she was gone. To see the woman that I considered invincible, give me this note…I wasn’t ready to accept what she was already prepared for. I fought back tears as I told her, “Do worry, Imma handle it!” as she’s going over every detail that she wants done. I nodded my head and sat down on the foot of the bed…I just remember turning away so she wouldn’t see my face. I didn’t know what to say to my mother to comfort her, after she gave me that letter…I thought about all the times I had let my momma down, getting in trouble in school, not living up to my potential. I looked at that as wasted time, time I could have been making my momma proud. I thought about a future without MY BEST FRIEND. We had done everything together! There were so many questions running through my mind. She saw me, and said, “We’ve all gotta go through this at some time or another.” I thought back a few years earlier to when my grandma (her mom) passed away. My mom was the oldest sibling and was very close to her mom. I remember when my grandma passed, my mom ‘s demeanor never changed. I never saw her get emotional…she always seemed to have it all together. But I just couldn’t bring myself to ask my mom, how did she handle the death of her mom, so that I can try to handle her leaving. Fighting back tears, I asked her, and she sat up and turned to me and said, “After my mom died, I would find a quiet place, and that would be MY PLACE to go, to cry, to read the Bible, to sing, to meditate, to talk to her…You’ve got to find YOU a place to do the same thing!” My mom always hung out in a certain spot in the house, and I asked her if that was her spot…she agreed! I use her spot a lot when I’m down there. Even Kayla has been using it for years, I’ve never told her that it was her grandma’s special place…but I’m sure she’s always known. I’m still looking for MY PLACE, momma. I sure wish you were here to help me find it! Love you, Stinker!
Posted on: Wed, 14 Aug 2013 04:29:47 +0000
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